


Into This Good Night

by Myrime



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Goodbyes, Hurt Peter, Hurt Tony, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Infinity War spoilers, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Thanos Wins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 23:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14758496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrime/pseuds/Myrime
Summary: INFINITY WAR SPOILERS!Peter is dying. Neither his fear nor Mr. Stark's growing desperation can hold him back. The arms around him are not enough to keep his fading body grounded. He is not sure why he is surprised, but dying hurts. Until it doesn't.





	Into This Good Night

Peter realizes he is dying before the first of their group dissolves into nothing. _Realizes_ is maybe too optimistic a word. It is a feeling only, that has him shaking, an abstract fear moving slowly through his veins. Death is a concept he cannot quite comprehend. It is the place his parents vanished to and his Uncle Ben after them, but it is not a land for children. And right then, stuck on an alien planet in the middle of space, Peter feels very much like a child. And death is too absolute.

Even after gaining his abilities, after donning the mask and throwing himself into danger, Peter has never actively thought about dying. Maybe that is a mistake all young people make, with their lives stretching out in front of them and an end all but unimaginable. But there is something undeniable about it now that it is here.

It starts as a tingling in his fingertips and goose bumps rising on his arms. He blames all of that on the fight, on their defeat – although he does not like to think of it as that because there are others who will oppose Thanos and succeed where they did not. _Defeat_ is an ugly word for a horrible thing and one that does not fit in his definition of a world with heroes.

Fear only enters the picture when he sees Mantis disintegrating. One moment she looks surprised, then she is gone. No one knows what is happening, and Drax follows quickly.

Peter’s lungs feel like they have collapsed for he cannot breathe. His heart races, stumbles, expecting to stop any second now. But it cannot be, it is just a panic attack. And one that is long overdue, with him stranded in space, hurting all over from a fight that has more place in legend than real life.

But that is when his eyes fall on Mr. Stark, who is looking around with failing calm. Looks at the places Mantis and Drax have still inhabited just now. Looks at Quill looking comically offended at ceasing to exist. Looks at Dr. Strange, likely repeating his _There was no other way_ as senselessly in his head as Peter does.

Then pain spreads through Peter’s body and he does not think much at all anymore apart from increasingly frantic denial. This cannot be happening. A dozen arguments come to mind. He is too young, too smart, too strong, too enhanced. He has so much to live for, a whole world to explore. He has friends waiting for him at home, family, a girl he might love. He cannot be dying, not now, not here where he cannot say his goodbyes. It is not fair.

Then Mr. Stark looks at him, afraid and pleading, and Peter thinks for a long moment that it is his mentor who will be dissolving next. A grief fills him that is too much to bear, which has him stumbling as he walks forward, his vision greying with what feels like tears burning behind his eyes. The whole word is shifting beneath his feet. He is everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He is a child held by his mother and then an orphan. He is a boy too smart for his own good and then he is a foolish boy able to shoot webs from his hands. He is alive and then he is fading.

“I don’t feel so good, Mr. Stark,” he says instead of screaming for help he instinctively knows will not come. What help could there be when time itself is coming to an end for him?

The knowledge that it is _him_ dying comes over him abruptly, overwhelming his already failing senses.

Mere minutes ago, he has seen Mr. Stark bleeding from a stab wound, face going white and eyes opening wide, leaving not much room to miss the pain he is in. But also the relief. As afraid as Peter had been, Mr. Stark seemed like he is looking forward to dying as much as he fights against it.

Peter cannot understand it, but at the same time he envies it. He is sure dying would be much easier if he would not try to stop it, if he would not hold onto his rapidly disintegrating self with everything he has, however little it is.

Mr. Stark’s arms are around him. He feels like that is the only reason he is not yet gone.

 

* * *

 

“I want you to be careful.” Aunt May holds him in an embrace that speaks of home like nothing else does. “Please, don’t do something stupid.”

May does not say _You’re the only one I have left_ , but Peter hears it nonetheless. Hears it in every other word she says to him, sees it in the kitchen chair that always stays empty these days. His aunt does not sleep much, and oftentimes she looks in on him at night as if she is afraid he will simply vanish if she does not check he is still there.

Her fear is not that strange an idea to him. Peter does not remember his parents but he imagines he remembers their loss. Their absence sometimes feels like a real, physical pain haunting him. He senses their echo in every one of his smiles they do not see, in every bout of laughter they do not share, in every scary thought they cannot protect him from.

Once, he was bitten by a spider and thought he could finally go home, be held, experience a mother’s love that he is sure must be even more wholesome than May’s. Instead he lived, became part spider himself, and vowed to do his part in trying to keep other children from living through the same pain as he did. For the first time ever, he felt like he has something to give back to the world that has taken so much from him but gifted him so much too.

Peter is relieved that Aunt May knows now, and surprised that she does not threaten to lock him up forever if he does not give up Spider-Man. Maybe she understands him better than he has thought. She has raised him, after all, has taught him everything he knows about right and wrong and how to be a good person. He cannot stand back and let bad things happen, not without giving up himself. And that, truly, is the only thing he has.

May has been his first hero. Not just because she became his surrogate mother, taking him in and giving him a life, but because he saw her break under Uncle Ben’s loss, only to watch her put herself back together. For him, for their family. Because life marches on relentlessly and she refused to be left behind.

These are not quite the same reasons why Mr. Stark became his hero too. Apart from his intellectual prowess and how easy he makes it seem to stand up to anyone in his way, the most important thing Mr. Stark has done for Peter was look at him and _see_ him, see potential, and decided to give him a chance.

Peter wonders how many times now he has promised Mr. Stark not to throw himself headfirst into situations too big for him. He meant it every time, but how can he grow if he always backs down when something difficult comes his way? And Peter still as a lot of growing to do, especially if he ever wants to measure up to Mr. Stark. (Not Iron Man. There is a clear distinction between them, even though Mr. Stark always says he _is_ Iron Man. Iron Man is supposed to be a hero. Mr. Stark is one despite what everyone expects of him.)

But when Aunt May asks him to be careful, it is much simpler to say, “I promise,” and believe that he will actually do it, too. She has only ever asked him for promises she knows he is willing to give.

_Be careful_ does not mean _Stay out of this fight._ _Don’t do anything stupid_ does not mean _Don’t do anything at all._

So he promises and lets her hold him close, revelling in her warmth, in how easily she shows her love, in how much she accepts who he is, even thought that turned out to be very different from what she probably hoped for the little boy she took in years ago.

“Come home to me,” she whispers, almost too quiet for him to hear, although he supposes that is on purpose. “Whatever you do, just come back home.”

Peter hums noncommittally, not giving her his word because he almost did not come home not too long ago. So many nights he wakes up bathed in sweat and unable to breathe because he feels like he is buried alive again, trapped with no way out. It was sheer luck that had him coming home then, and one day all the luck in the world will run out.

He just hopes she does not have to be there to witness it.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t want to go,” Peter says, clinging to Mr. Stark with fingers that have lost all feeling, trembling with a weakness that terrifies him. Even young and small and bullied he could always count on his hands being nimble and able to build. But he cannot build on grounds that crumble wherever he sets his foot. Although, of course, it is only his foot crumbling. The world will stand unchanged in the wake of his passing.

“Please,” he adds, voice breaking halfway through the word, maybe realizing the futility of it.

Begging has never helped before. Not when Uncle Ben did not come home. Not when he was beaten up in school. Not when he was buried under a ton of concrete.

Aunt May had always said, “If you want something to change, you have to do it yourself.”

What can he do about dying? What can he do when all the heroes of his world and others he has never heard of before have apparently failed against this one mad would-be-god? All their strength and determination, their magic and tech, their loyalty to each other – none of it was enough.

So, what hope does Peter have? Small nerdy Peter who feels his very core shaking and ready to give in. Half child, half spider, all out of lives.

Peter does not want to do this to Mr. Stark. They were good together, giving Peter the feeling that he, too, could maybe change the world. He has seen Mr. Stark return from Siberia, deep shadows in his eyes and snow swirling constantly at the edge of his vision. He has seen him rebuild himself as he rebuilt the suit. Day by day, scratch by scratch, panic attack by panic attack. That, mostly, was what helped Peter rebuild himself too after Vulture.

It is not fair to either of them. To the man who has lost so much already, and the boy who thought he has finally found something like a father again. Even with how very fragile he already feels, it breaks his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he says and Mr. Stark does not move but just keeps holding on to Peter.

They cling to each other, the graveyard of Titan waiting patiently behind them. Ghosts are never in a hurry, and theirs feel like they need an eternity to disentangle from each other.

In the end, it feels almost peaceful. When he cannot hold onto Mr. Stark any longer, he lets go. His hands dissolve and he does not feel his legs. He breathes but the air fills nothing because his lungs are made of holes. The fear in the pit of his stomach vanishes, leaving him light and almost careless. His heart stumbles on, longer than Peter would have thought possible, but it is filled to the bursting, flooding his fraying mind with images.

_Aunt May laughing as she carries a birthday cake to the table. Uncle Ben encouraging him to blow all five candles in one go._

_Ned and him in the school lab, not caring that Peter’s split lip has reopened because they were talking too much, too caught up in their project for the science fair._

_MJ smiling at him in that dry way of hers, pretending not to care but belying her nonchalance with the brief touch of her hand on his arm, gone almost too quickly to notice but being burned into his memory nonetheless._

_Mr. Stark calling him_ kid _with too much emotion, inviting him up to the workshop anytime he wants, catering to his every dream, sometimes even before Peter knows he has them._

Peter’s memories go last, embedded firmly within his feelings. Maybe they do not go at all. He thinks, absurdly, about souls as he leaves.

He watches Mr. Stark break as he dissolves into air and wishes nothing more than that he could have some more last words, change his pleading into something that would soothe.

_Don’t worry_ , he would say, _Forget what I said, I’m okay with going. I’m all right._

Thanos’ mercy, he thinks, is not burdening the dying with regrets. The true pain is to be shouldered only by the ones left behind.

_Tell May that I love her. And MJ and Ned. Remember that I love you too._

Then, blissfully, he is gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so bitter about Infinity War and at the same time I loved it so much. There were so many things that just hurt, so many details and facial expressions. There were some things I wished would have happened, but I'm nonetheless very satisfied. Who needs a heart anyway?
> 
> Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think. Feel free to rant about Infinity War, cause I still got so many unexpressed feelings about it.  
> All the best to you!


End file.
